fiction, Star Literature
FICTION / The veil of shadow
He had consistently disregarded the villagers' accounts of bhoot-prets as local folklore. To him, they were just stories to scare the gullible
FICTION / Mother saves her corpses before lunch
Mother woke before sunrise with the weight of the house pulling at her bones and moved against the cold floor, the chill biting at her ankles. In the corner hung the gutted rabbit, its blood pooling on the floor. Her fingers trembled, as she bathed herself in it, coating her skin red.
FICTION / Bangali ghosts vie for the fishes
That night, the wind howled like the wolves as Shyam and Alameen rowed silently, their boat traversing through the misty air and the water rippling gently beneath them.
FICTION / Residence
I plead but I know there is nothing I can do. Akbar, in a rare fit of courage, tries to intervene. But the old man does not budge. Maybe he knows about Mina and me.
FLASH FICTION / The exiled daughter
Is it true that when we migrate, we lose a few people from our past?
FICTION / Hair cream
The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.
FICTION / At home
This is the first time I let you in, but you’ve already made yourself at home. You are bumbling around in my kitchen, as though you have been making me tea for a lifetime.
FICTION / The loss of essentiality
Umar stood in line with all the patience in the world. He could smell the anxiety and fear in the air. The room was filled with people once glorifying death and taking pride in solitude, now filled with panic in the face of reality.
FICTION / Animality
TRIGGER WARNING: animal brutality
The veil of shadow
He had consistently disregarded the villagers' accounts of bhoot-prets as local folklore. To him, they were just stories to scare the gullible
Bangali ghosts vie for the fishes
That night, the wind howled like the wolves as Shyam and Alameen rowed silently, their boat traversing through the misty air and the water rippling gently beneath them.
Mother saves her corpses before lunch
Mother woke before sunrise with the weight of the house pulling at her bones and moved against the cold floor, the chill biting at her ankles. In the corner hung the gutted rabbit, its blood pooling on the floor. Her fingers trembled, as she bathed herself in it, coating her skin red.
Residence
I plead but I know there is nothing I can do. Akbar, in a rare fit of courage, tries to intervene. But the old man does not budge. Maybe he knows about Mina and me.
The exiled daughter
Is it true that when we migrate, we lose a few people from our past?
Hair cream
The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.
At home
This is the first time I let you in, but you’ve already made yourself at home. You are bumbling around in my kitchen, as though you have been making me tea for a lifetime.
The loss of essentiality
Umar stood in line with all the patience in the world. He could smell the anxiety and fear in the air. The room was filled with people once glorifying death and taking pride in solitude, now filled with panic in the face of reality.
Animality
TRIGGER WARNING: animal brutality